Financial Times 1999

No Room for Unreliable Guests by Anne Wareham

Perhaps the best gardens belong to people who don't garden. Think of the delight of a formal garden, with sculptural clipped box, stone paving, a well proportioned pool, vases full of tulips - and compare that to the busy, messy plant collector's gardens that most of us end up with. The less acquisitive of plants we are, the better our designs. But most gardeners are suckers for a new and beautiful plant, however overcrowded their borders may already be.

I use colour, structure and generous spreads of repeat plantings to try to bring coherence to the garden, but until recently I never thought of applying these principles to the conservatory. There is every excuse for filling the protected space of a conservatory with random collecting, because, of course, the place is themed by temperature. If it's tender, this is the place for it. It's possible to end up buying a plant which is tender just because we have a place for it - my heart sinks when I see pictures of Cornish gardens with the inevitable palms. I wish Cornish gardeners could liberate themselves from this compulsive hospitality.

In a conservatory the result of plant collecting may not only be a visual mess, but also a great deal of unnecessary work attending to the differing individual needs of a random collection. Of course, the acquisitive collector I am referring to here is myself, and so I have lately been contemplating a conservatory overhaul.The trick will be to find a better basis for deciding whether to buy - or discard - any particular plant than whether it likes the temperature I'm offering. To start, it may be worth considering when I am most likely to be in the conservatory to enjoy the plant. I never want to be in the conservatory in the time from autumn until after Christmas. That's the time of year when it is still a novelty and delight to be toasting the toes in front of a fire in the comfort of the real indoors.

But the new year, with the slowly lengthening days, revives the idea that daylight and plant growth have pleasures to offer. Then visits to the conservatory may begin being for delight rather than dutiful care of dormant plants and I will want flowering pleasures from then until the autumn. It seems fine if the early treats are small - forced primroses or early bulbs, perhaps; tasters for the cornucopia of the summer months. But the principles of good design that apply in the borders outside apply here too. A background of good evergreens keep the garden furnished in winter and help to set off the early flowering bulbs. They can also fill the same function under glass. One of my favourite plants for this role is x fatshedera lizei, which has satisfyingly big shiny leaves and long stems which can be trained over a wall. It is actually hardy, and is good playing the same kind of role outside.

Another good furnishing plant is the clivia, with the bonus of spectacular spring flowers. Many years ago I started one plant from seed, and for several years the leaves made a very fetching fan shape. Then the whole thing seemed to go mad, with the result that I now have several large pots bursting with their good strap-like evergreen leaves. They provide a unifying repeat that helps bring some coherence to the conservatory. It is good to have a plant that thrives readily without needing much attention and looks good all year. It makes me feel successful. Much nicer than the permanent mild anxiety associated with more troublesome plants.

Conservatory 2005. © Charles Hawes

I think, if I can be brave enough, that this is the way I would like to go in the conservatory: to concentrate on those plants that thrive and earn their space, those which really seem to like me and what I have to offer. This tends to mean plants that like lots of water. For some reason people who fail with houseplants are often advised to grow things which require little watering, on the basis, I suppose, that such plants stand neglect. But the challenged houseplant grower still has the awesome responsibility of deciding just when it is right to water such a plant without risking sudden death (of the plant).

Much easier to have a plant that will be pleased if you give it a soak every time you notice it. So I plan to concentrate on such plants. Pride of place goes to the night scented Brugmansia, still known as a Datura in our house. This is not only impossible to overwater when it is growing vigorously, but it also seems impossible to overfeed it. I have had spectacular and perpetual flower (I cut them down in the autumn to force them to take a break) on a regime of lots of water laced always with a splosh of tomato food.

They do get red spider and whitefly, which would be a problem perhaps for some people. But everything in my conservatory seems to get them, so I use biological controls - little predators. The spider mite predator is difficult to apply. It comes in a small quantity of bran-like stuff which you need to introduce on to the leaves of the afflicted plants. For this reason it seems to be useless with small leaved climbing plants - even if you can get it to stay on a leaf, you have a problem getting it to stay on a leaf way over your head at roof level. The predator doesn't seem to travel far under its own steam, so it doesn't climb up unaided.

However, the datura has big fat leaves, which often grow nicely at right angles to the plant, creating platforms for predators to be piled on to. Abutilons offer a similar advantage and also have a desire to flower perpetually if not prevented. They have beautiful bell shaped flowers in many good, clean colours. If you were colour themeing a conservatory in anything but blue, you could find an abutilon for your purpose, and as they are very easy from cuttings you could soon have masses. I have turned my collecting urge to finding one of every colour, but perhaps I could yet reform, if I could only decide which I like best and take a lead from that. They are especially good grown as standards, so that you can look up at the hanging flowers.
The climbing plumbago makes a final "reliable" with me. The problem then is - can I bring myself to throw out the rest of the plants for the sake of a better overall effect?

Published in the Financial Times March 27th 1999